Daringly, yet how unerringly
They bring to the cool and nun-like virtues
Of patience or something older than patience,
Silence, absolute silence, and obedience
All the hot virtues of the sun
And being wholly sex are wholly pure.
If with an equal candor we could face
Their unguarded faces, if we could look in silence
Long enough, could we touch finally,
We who when luckiest are said to flower,
Their fiery innocence, their day-long unabashed
Fulfillment, their unregretful falling?
[Robert Francis {1901-1987}, 'Floruit', from Collected Poems 1936-1976]
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